Vanguard Security

by S. J. Bishop

Damn. He didn’t know when to quit, did he? A part of me was starting to get a little suspicious. He wanted to know an awful lot about my life, but at the same time, it felt nice to finally tell someone about my plight. I had been alone and isolated in my apartment for so long that I was actually enjoying this man’s company, no matter how strange it was.

  “Emil,” I answered, the word tasting bitter in my mouth. By my side, my hands tightened into fists.

  He nodded again. “And he just left you here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s really messed up. No man should ever do that to a woman, especially when there’s a child involved.” His jaw clenched, and his frame shook as if with anger. “Look, I want to do what I can to help.” He pulled out his wallet and placed a one-hundred-dollar bill on the coffee table. “I know you’re going to try to give that back to me. Don’t. I want you to have it. Get back on your feet. And if you ever need someone to watch Missy, then just knock. Can’t promise that I’ll be the best babysitter in the world, but I will certainly do my best.”

  I blushed, completely at a loss for words. This man seemed too good to be true. No one was ever this nice for no reason. What was his angle? Yet as I looked into those piercing blue eyes of his, I could tell he was being genuine.

  “Anyway, I’m sure you want to get some sleep now that Missy has calmed down, so I should probably leave.”

  Before I could say anything, he had already slipped out the door.

  What a strange, strange man.

  In the morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and revitalized. Missy was still asleep, which meant I had some free time to myself.

  I walked into the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets, trying to gather together the last tidbits of food. It was a dismal lot. A bit of sugar, half a bag of flour, three eggs, a quarter stick of butter, and an unopened can of baking powder. As I looked at all the ingredients, it dawned on me that this was all I needed to make some muffins.

  A bright smile painted my face. I loved to cook, but with the pregnancy, it had been getting harder and harder to stay on my feet for a long time, and besides, I’d hardly ever had the time. Today, however, seemed as good a day as any to take up the habit once more.

  Feeling especially chipper, I turned on the radio and hummed along. Soon, I was pouring the batter into the baking tray and tossing it into the oven.

  Right on cue, Missy started to cry.

  “Well, good morning, sleeping beauty,” I cooed over the end of her crib.

  She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and seemed to smile, reaching her arms out toward me. I picked her up, doing a little dance with her in my arms. She giggled, enjoying the spins we did.

  Once we were back in the kitchen, I made her a fresh bottle, which she gobbled up like a little glutton. “Yummy, isn’t it?” I asked.

  She answered by sucking on the nipple even harder.

  “Try not to hurt yourself,” I chuckled, bopping her on the nose. “Once these muffins are done, we’re going to head over to apartment 101 and thank Ned for everything he did for us last night. If it weren’t for him, you’d still be hungry.”

  Missy finished her bottle and gave me a toothy smile. Sometimes, it felt like she knew exactly what I was saying.

  7

  Ned

  Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

  I groaned, rolled over, and hid my face underneath the pillow. No, it couldn’t be morning already! It just couldn’t be.

  Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

  My alarm was getting louder, persistently trying to get me to pay attention to it.

  No!

  Five more glorious minutes.

  Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

  “Alright!” I shouted, slamming my hand on the ‘off’ button.

  Ah, that’s better. Peace and quiet.

  I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for a while.

  Usually, I was more than eager to get to work, but today I was actually considering calling in ‘sick.’ If I did, then I’d have time to stop by Stacey’s apartment and see how she was doing.

  She probably thought I was some creep, but I still wanted to make sure she was okay.

  Slowly, I rolled out of bed, stretching my limbs. After getting all the kinks out of my back, I headed for the bathroom, already in the process of shedding my pajamas. Feeling confident, I tried to hoop-shot my shirt into the hamper.

  I missed.

  Good thing I’d never tried to get into professional basketball.

  With a chuckle, I started the shower, letting the water run for a few minutes. Once the steam started to fill the room, I stepped into the stall, the warmth enveloping my body.

  At first glance, I probably looked like your typical computer geek. My baggy clothes made me look lanky, but I was actually pretty physically fit. When I was nineteen, I had enlisted in the army because I’d thought it was the right thing to do. My father had been in the army, and my grandfather before him.

  I found out quickly that I wanted nothing to do with a gun. But, I knew a thing or two about weapons and how to fix them. I guess all those violent video games I used to play as a teenager had come in handy after all.

  Soon, I was part of the Navy SEALs, completing highly-classified missions with a team of skilled men and women. It had been amazing. It had felt like I was part of something greater for the first time in my life.

  And then, I had been taken out, bit by bit. First, it was a stab wound to the shoulder. I’d spent a few days in the infirmary before I was sent back onto the field. Then, my ankle had snagged in a bear trap deep in the jungle. The final blow was a bullet. It had torn through my abdomen, leaving behind a hole the size of my fist upon leaving my body. I’d been forced to hike five miles, trying to keep my guts from spilling out.

  Honestly, I had no idea how I’d managed to survive.

  Those three months in intensive care had felt like hell.

  Even now, I had a painful reminder of that time left on my body.

  With hands soapy with body wash, I skirted my fingers along the gruesome-looking scar. It had never healed properly, making it an area that was still tender to the touch. Some of my comrades had suggested I tattoo over it, but in a way, I liked it. It was proof that I had actually been in the war, especially for those who believed that I was nothing more than a lowly tech.

  Sighing, I closed my eyes, washing my long, curly hair. In the SEALs, I had been forced to shave it all off. I’d hated it. I liked my long hair. It was a part of my identity.

  Suddenly, the water skipped as the pipes groaned through the wall. A shot of freezing water poured forth, covering me in near-painful goosebumps.

  “Burr!” I shook my head, waiting for the hot water to return, but it never did.

  With no other choice, I rinsed out my hair under the frigid stream, feeling like I was back in Russia where I’d had to bathe in the half-frozen water during an exceptionally long campaign toward Siberia.

  Can’t say it was my favorite mission.

  Finally, I turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. Still wet, I padded into the bedroom and looked through the drawers, trying to find a clean shirt to wear.

  Before I could find one, however, there was a knock on the door.

  Strange.

  I wasn’t one to get visitors. Unless…

  Quickly, I rushed up to the door as silently as possible, thankful in that moment for all of my stealth training.

  Looking through the peephole, I saw Stacey standing there, Missy in one arm and a plate of muffins in the other.

  Compared to last night, her face looked much less haggard. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do.

  She knocked again.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  I couldn’t answer the door wearing only a towel.

  What was I supposed to do?

  In the end, my indecision caused her to leave. As soon as she was out of sight, I sighed in relief, glad that the awkward situation h
ad been averted.

  But there was something else. Something I couldn’t quite identify.

  There was a stirring inside my chest. It was a foreign feeling that made my heart beat a little faster, almost as if I had been injected with a dose of adrenaline.

  Why was I feeling this way?

  I shrugged it off and headed back to my bedroom. I could figure it out later. If I didn’t hurry, I would be late for work.

  I could check up on Stacey as soon as I got back.

  But even as I headed for the stairwell a few minutes later, I glanced toward her door, nearly doubling back.

  A part of me desperately wanted to knock, to take her into my arms and never let go. I couldn’t understand why. I barely knew the woman, and she barely knew me. If I were to hug her for no apparent reason, she would think that was weird. Right?

  I shook my head. I needed to take things slow. Nothing good ever came out of being too hasty.

  Good things come to those who wait, I reminded myself.

  8

  Stacey

  He probably wasn’t home. Or he was sleeping. Or maybe he didn’t want to see me.

  It wouldn’t be the first time a guy had shown interest and then disappeared.

  I sighed, setting the plate of muffins down on the kitchen counter. Oh well, more for me.

  Missy pulled on my hair.

  “Ouch!”

  She giggled.

  “You’re a little brat, you know that?” I cooed as I started to tickle her chin.

  Instantly, she curled up into a fit of giggles.

  The sound filled me with joy – the sort of joy that only a mother could feel. I smiled at my baby, our foreheads pressed together in a tender moment. Who needed guys when we had each other? Screw them. I may not have a lot right now, but I was determined to make the most of it. “Come on, Missy, how about we go outside and get some fresh air? I think it’ll do us both some good.”

  Missy, of course, just babbled at me.

  I took that as a ‘yes’.

  After she was all swaddled in her stroller, I grabbed my sketchbook and some colored pencils. So far, my artwork had been useless when it came to paying the bills or putting food on the table, but I wasn’t about to give up my passion just yet. Art had always been my release – a way for me to let go of all my tension.

  And God knew I needed it right now.

  So Missy and I headed out, walking at a brisk pace toward a nearby park.

  The day was beautiful, with an azure sky and fluffy white clouds. I kept my eyes peeled for anything that might serve as inspiration for my next painting.

  After about thirty minutes of scouring the periphery of the park, I settled down on a bench positioned in front of an Irish Pub. Of course, it was closed, but its darkened windows and mysterious vibe only made it all the more interesting.

  Rocking Missy’s stroller with my foot, I started a quick sketch, capturing all of the tiny details. I would modify the scene later, adding in my own personal touch.

  When I was almost done, I stared at it, feeling like there was something missing – an essence that I wasn’t quite transferring onto the page.

  Before I could figure out what it was, the front doors opened with an ominous groan.

  I gasped.

  No.

  It couldn’t be him.

  It couldn’t.

  The sun rose above the building’s roof, blinding me for a moment. When I was able to see again, he was already halfway down the street.

  Oh no, you don’t. Not this time. This time, I’m getting answers.

  With my grip tight around the stroller, I started running down the path, keeping my eyes locked on the retreating figure.

  He was wearing the leather jacket I had given him for Christmas…

  His hair was styled differently.

  What was he doing inside a pub at nine in the morning?

  My head spun, trying to make sense of it all. I felt that if I could only catch up to him – if I could only get him to talk to me, everything would change. Things would be different. I would no longer be living in a nightmare.

  Suddenly, he turned and disappeared.

  No.

  I was about to cross the street when a bus stopped right in front of me, obscuring my view.

  When I tried to go around, another bus pulled up right behind it.

  Just my luck…

  By the time I got to the other side, Emil was nowhere to be found.

  Where had he gone?

  And then, I heard it.

  The sound of his motorcycle.

  I turned in a full circle, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.

  Too late.

  He flew past me, hugging his pitch-black sports bike and picking up speed. The same bike I had ridden on countless times before, enjoying the rush of adrenaline whenever I’d wrapped my arms around his torso and he’d popped a wheelie.

  How had I been so foolish? Why had I ever thought it would be a good idea to fall for a man like him? I should have known he would be trouble from the start.

  But he was the bad boy and I was the good girl, unable to resist his charm.

  God, was I stupid.

  For a while, I just stood there, unsure of how to proceed. My body felt numb, my heart frozen with the sense of abandonment. As much as I wanted to forget him, he was the father of my child. He was the one who had provided for me during my pregnancy, and now, I was just trying to understand why he had left me so abruptly. I couldn’t comprehend it; I couldn’t accept it.

  I needed him.

  But he was gone, and there didn’t seem to be anything I could do to bring him back.

  With a heavy sigh, I started forward. After all, that was the only thing I could do. If I kept looking back, I’d lose myself in the pain of the past.

  Still, my thoughts wandered, replaying the memories of our time together. It had all seemed so perfect. Too perfect. I should have seen it coming. Nothing that good ever lasts.

  Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted as I crashed into something – no, someone.

  Looking up, I was surprised to see Ned standing there, his white shirt now covered by a huge coffee stain.

  My eyes widened when I realized I had run over his feet with Missy’s stroller. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry… I wasn’t paying attention.” I rushed up to him, trying to figure out some way to help, but all I did was wave my hands around in a useless manner. “Um… let’s go back inside... get this washed off before it leaves a permanent stain…” I said, feeling incredibly guilty about what I had done. “Oh… you aren’t hurt, are you?” I added, realizing a bit too late that he had spilled hot coffee all over himself.

  9

  Ned

  Stacey was speaking very quickly. Her eyes were wide and full of panic, guilt written all over her face.

  Gently, I grabbed her by the elbow and gave it a light squeeze.

  In reaction, she looked up at me, our eyes locking.

  Instantly, electricity flew between us, scrambling my brain. I wanted to say something, but I could do nothing but gaze at those beautiful hazel eyes of hers. Somehow, they were even more beautiful now than they had been last night. My breath hitched in my throat as my heart hammered faster than ever. Beads of sweat prickled my temples.

  After a moment, however, I was able to compose myself and pull away. “Hey, it’s alright,” I said. “It was an accident. I have plenty more shirts. It’s no big deal.”

  “Are you sure…?” she asked, biting her lip.

  “Positive.”

  “But at least let me help you clean it.”

  I had the feeling that I wouldn’t be able to convince her otherwise, so I nodded in agreement.

  Together, we walked back into the coffee shop and into the family bathroom.

  “I’m not making you late for work, am I?”

  “Well, technically, I was on my way there, but I also don’t have a set time when I need to clock in, so it’s fine.”


  She frowned, wetting a wad of paper towels under the tap. Then she started to dab my shirt, soaking the material in an effort to fight the coffee stain already settling into the fibers. As she did so, there was a look of pure concentration on her face.

  All I could think about was how close she was standing. So close, in fact, that I picked up the scent of her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of rosewater. It was intoxicating. Sweet. Just like her.

  My nostril’s flared as I breathed in it, feeling like I was getting high off the scent.

  And then, her hand moved further down my torso, nearing my pants. A burst of excitement surged through my veins. Blood rushed from my head down to my groin, causing my member to stir to wakefulness.

  No.

  Not now.

  I filled my brain with disgusting thoughts, trying to quell my erection.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, noticing how tense I had become. At her question, we once again locked eyes, but this time, our faces were dangerously close. I could feel her warm breath on my lips, and I wanted nothing more than to tangle my fingers into her hair, pull her close, and taste how sweet she really was.

  Desire like I had never felt before bubbled inside of me.

  What was this? Why was I feeling this way?

  I took a deep breath and looked away.

  We were both blushing.

  Could it be…?

  No.

  I barely knew her. That would be silly. Love at first sight was just something you read about in fairy tales. It didn’t happen in real life, did it?

  “Um… sorry…” she mumbled.

  “No, no, don’t apologize. Thanks for helping,” I answered quickly.

  Silence.

  A thick awkwardness wrapped around us, making the bathroom air stuffier than it already was. It was only then that I realized I was alone with her. We were alone – together – in a small room. Well, there was the baby. But if this was a movie, I’d be making a move. I’d be pushing her against the wall, our lips colliding together in the start of an erotic dance.